


Ash and Water

by saltandlimes



Category: Star Wars Episode VII: The Force Awakens (2015)
Genre: Bathtubs, M/M, Soft Kylux, What is happening?, bath tub shenanigans, it is kinda broken and sad but still
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-06-21
Updated: 2016-06-21
Packaged: 2018-07-16 08:52:01
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,205
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7260859
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/saltandlimes/pseuds/saltandlimes
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Kylo has been gone too long. And when he returns, bruised, broken, covered in the burned husks of enemies days dead, Hux’s heart twists more than he thought it could. And there’s so little that he can do, so little Hux can use to try to heal scars deeper than the welts running across Kylo’s bare skin. But as he holds him close, settles back in water almost hot enough to scald, he hopes it’s enough. </p><p>It has to be enough.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Ash and Water

**Author's Note:**

> Umm. I made a rather ill considered choice and did that "The Fic I'll Never Write" thing on tumblr. And then I went and wrote one of the fics. 
> 
> So here you go, anon. I know I promised a summary, but I'm giving you a fic too.

It has been months. Six months, five days, fifteen hours. Twenty three minutes. And as he stands in the shuttle bay, eyes fixed on the shuttle that eases its way inside, he can feel each second weighing on him like a brick, like another mistake he can never repair. 

So he stands straighter, hands clasped behind his back, shoulders tight, chin high. 

At first Hux thought it might be a punishment, taking Ren away from him like Snoke had done. He had thought that Snoke wanted to show the rest of the First Order that his general was no longer worthy of the master of the Knights of Ren, no long worthy of working alongside the Supreme Leader's chosen lieutenant. 

In the darker moments, he'd wondered if Snoke knew just how much of a punishment it really was. 

But then, in lingering conferences, long debates over the future of First Order expansion, intimate discussions of propaganda and production, Hux had come to realize that he was not being punished. No, Snoke understood perfectly well _Hux's_ own value to the Order. It was Ren. Ren who needed to learn his place, who had to leave. 

After Starkiller, in those desperate few months, Hux had never thought to wonder what was happening. He and Ren had chosen to present a united front to Snoke, chosen to stand next to one another and not try to throw each other into the maw of the beast. And thus they had existed. Thus they had survived. And then, Ren. Ren had somehow thought this was the time. 

He had whispered about it to Hux at night. Had told him that Snoke would expect it, would expect him to begin to speak his mind. It was then next step in his training, he was sure of it. And Ren had sounded so confident. He had been so sure, striding into the chamber, standing up to Snoke. Voicing his views on how the knights should be ordered, on which missions he should take. And Snoke had nodded, glanced at Hux, a strange glance, secret and knowing. 

The next day Ren was gone. 

There have been rumors, of course. The Knight has been out on missions. He destroyed a pocket of resistance, bodies splattered to walls, strewn across silent stations. He took down a ship. He burned a settlement. But that is all. Not a word, not a mention from Snoke. 

Until yesterday, when Snoke had called Hux to speak to him, sudden and surprising. 

“My apprentice will be joining you again tomorrow.” And Hux had fought to keep his face impassive, his heart locked behind the wall that he built around it the past six months, four days, seven hours. “He has learned much these past few months. I suspect, General, you will find him much easier to work with.” Hux couldn't prevent a grimace passing across his face at that – he doesn't _want_ Ren to be easier, doesn't want anything different – but luckily Snoke took it as simply a reaction to mention of Ren's earlier destructive escapades aboard Finalizer. And then the hologram had flickered off, and he was left there, waiting, wanting. 

So now he stands, watches the shuttle settle onto its landing struts, watches the entry hiss open. And then, oh then, six months, five days, fifteen hours, thirty four minutes after he passed beyond the walls of Hux's ship, Ren is back. He's walking down the ramp, footfalls heavy. Hux can't help but notice their odd cadence, quiet as they are in the busy hangar. Ren is limping. And as he draws closer, Hux notices something else. 

There is no helmet. 

There wasn't, of course, those first few days after Starkiller. But Ren had one made, quickly enough that barely a single trooper saw his face. And he'd worn it, always, constantly. (Well except for in those moments Hux tries not to remember – too much hurt, longing.) But now his face is bare, streaked with grime, sweat. Eyes wild. And he's closing in on Hux, and Hux has the absurd temptation to step backwards, to reel away from this man he has waited for, waited for six months, five days, fifteen hours, thirty six minutes. 

But he doesn't. 

No, instead he steps forward, meets Ren head on. And Ren stares for a moment, eyes meeting Hux's, blank. 

Blank.

And suddenly, after six months, five days, fifteen hours, thirty seven minutes, he breaks. And he's reaching out, catching Ren by the shoulder. For a moment, he thinks Ren is going to... well... do something. Bite him, snarl like a beast, turn, throw him across the hangar. But it passes, and he can feel Ren sag under his fingers, turn towards him, fold in on himself. 

“Lord Ren. It's good to have you back on board.” And Hux doesn't care. They're watching, he's sure of it, staring from the control room, from the boards and panels above. But this is more important, this moment. 

“General. It has been a long time.” (Six months, five days, fifteen hours, thirty eight minutes)

“Let me show you back to your quarters.” And Ren gives him a curt nod, shakes his hand off. Hux can't help but feel that his palm is cold, even under stretch of his glove, cold without the burn of Ren's bulk. And he can't help but note the grime coating the leather, dirt and ash and something faintly sticky. But he turns, starts to stride away. 

Every step is looser than the one before. Ren is a silent shadow, a dark mirror behind Hux. It's right, and yet wrong, Ren's tongue in check, his breath soft, not amplified by the helmet. 

And Hux had meant to bring Ren to the Knight's chambers, he really had. Ren looks ready to fall asleep as he walks through Finalizer's long corridors. But somehow, somehow, his feet lead him somewhere else. And he's pressing a finger to the controls outside his own door, walking inside and watching as Ren follows, almost in a daze. 

Hux isn't sure Ren has realized they're not in his quarters. But it doesn't matter, not really. Because Hux steps forward, brushes a hair out of Ren's face. And Ren whimpers, a soft sound of surprise. Hux thinks he should say something. 

Yet he doesn't. Not yet. Instead he pulls off his gloves, strips out of his padded jacket, his starched shirt. And he's left, thin and pale, undershirt rumpled, standing exposed in front of Ren. Ren, who is still draped in black, tattered robes drawn about him like a shroud. 

This close, away from the metallic oily feel of Finalizer's bowls, Hux can smell him. And it's something like the nightmare stench of death, something like the dregs of the deepest grave, blood and flame and heat and _wrong_. Wrong like those blank eyes. So he steps closer, smooths trembling hands across Ren's shoulders. 

“Can I take these off of you?” Hux has to ask, even if he never has before. Because before, he knew Ren would tell him. But with these six months, five days, sixteen hours, eight minutes between them, he isn't sure. Ren nods. 

So he finds the hidden clasps he knows so well, pulls layers of black fabric away from Ren's body with hands softer than they have ever been before. And Ren is quiet, so quiet that Hux hears the clock still counting in his mind, somehow not caught up with the fact that Ren is here, _here with him._

When Ren is finally free of the rags – and they are truly nothing more now, soaked with sweat and char and something darker and harsher – Hux steps back. And Ren is looking at him now, truly looking at him, eyes wide and terrified. 

For a horrible, terrible moment, Hux thinks it's because of him. 

But then Ren is surging forward, throwing thick arms around Hux, burying his face in Hux's shoulder. And this close Hux can smell the ash still on his skin. He pets a hand through Ren's hair and it comes away black with char. So he rubs it on his shirt, presses soft lips to Ren's ear.

“Let's get you cleaned up, alright?” Ren nods, and Hux tries to detach. But Ren won't let him go, and so they shuffle like that, joined tight together, until Hux gets them into the fresher, kneels down to the wide bath in the center of the room. He's never been more grateful for the perks of being a general than when he thumbs the tap to fill the tub.

While water rushes in, steaming, he pulls off his own trousers, the blackened undershirt that will have to be discarded along with Ren's robes. Then he steps them under the sonic, Ren still cradled against his chest. He doesn't want to dirty the water with the filth coating Ren's skin. 

It's quick, so quick that they're clean. And the heat from the water reaches them even here, standing well away, so hot that it's almost scalding. But Hux drags them towards it anyway, kneels down again beside the tub. And Ren kneels too, hand on Hux's waist clasping them tight together. 

“Let's get in, alright Ren?” Ren nods, says nothing. But when Hux stands and slips in, he follows, close and huge. And it feels strange, off, but Hux pulls Ren back against him, seats him in the cradle of his lap. Ren is just as he remembers, narrow waist, taught stomach, wide shoulders, and Hux lets himself pass soft hands through the water, caress the skin that he has missed (thought he might never get to have again.) And now, now Ren slumps completely, tension leaking from every muscle. He's clean now, smells of nothing more than himself, and Hux presses his nose into the crook of Ren's shoulder, takes a deep breath to clear away the lingering stench of ash floating through his mind. Ren makes a quiet, small noise, leans his head back against Hux's shoulder. It's soft, and warm, and the water feels like a caress around them. 

They stay there until the water starts to cool, until Hux shivers suddenly. In an instant, Ren is standing, scooping Hux up out of the bath, setting him on his feet. And it's so much like it was before that Hux forgets for a moment, forgets that there is something broken about his knight that was whole before. 

But as he walks into the bedchamber, Ren a silent shadow behind him, he remembers. And as he sits down on the bed and Ren stands uncertainly in center of the room, he wonders. Wonders who this man is, who has returned to him.

“Ren, what do you want? What do you need?” And there are tears in Ren's eyes, those strange soft features breaking open. “Come here, tell me, please, tell me.” Hux can hear his own voice breaking, hear the panic that's rising in his throat to choke him. He can't do this, can lose Ren for good while the man is standing there, right in front of him. 

But Ren comes, faces Hux on the bed, naked, bared to Hux as he should be. And suddenly, suddenly his eyes light with more than tears. And he's kissing Hux, mouth soft, hesitant. 

It's wet, and good, and warm, and the world puts itself back together in that moment. 

And it lasts for far to short a time. But then Ren is pulling back, looking down at Hux with eyes more his own than any Hux has seen since he came aboard. 

“Hux,” he breathes. “Hux... I...” It's enough. Hux pulls him onto the bed, pulls them together so they're pressed against one another so tight they can never be unwound. And they're not really hard, but Ren is reaching a hand down, stroking a huge thumb over Hux's hip, and he can feel himself responding. And for a moment, he's scared, terrified to show this to Ren, horrified that Ren might think this is all Hux wants. But Ren must read it on him, must finally be back enough to do that, for he smiles, that secret smile that only Hux sees. 

“I have missed you, my General.” And Hux sighs, lets Ren's questing fingers wrap around him, fist them together. Slow strokes. Soft touches. It's strange. New. Beautiful. 

It's the slow slide of Ren's hand across the head of his cock. It's the soft slip of his cock against Ren's. The warm wet of Ren's wet palm when he licks it. The slip of precome coating them both. The moan Ren makes, far back in his throat as Hux thrusts forward, hips working outside his control. The whimper as Hux mouths at his throat, slips a wet tongue against the corner of his jaw. The pant of their breath, open mouths just a moment away from one another. 

And as Hux arches his back, feels the rush-slide-push of orgasm falling though him, it's the murmured name on his lips – Kylo – and the light in Kylo's eyes as he hears it. 

Then Kylo comes, six months, five days, eighteen hours after he stepped off of Finalizer, broke, and was returned to Hux.

**Author's Note:**

> Come tempt me into other fic writing adventures on tumblr at [@saltandlimes](http://saltandlimes.tumblr.com/)


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